Entertaining in a less disturbing sort of way that might frighten only grandmothers and politicians, the 46-year-old shock rocker brought his Hell Not Hallelujah tour to Grand Rapids on Wednesday night.
‘The Pale Emperor’: Marilyn Manson performing on stage at The Orbit Room on Wednesday night. (Photo/Anthony Norkus)
Watching Marilyn Manson perform a crowd-pleasing set at a sold-out Orbit Room Wednesday night, it was weird trying to remember how much he used to freak people out.
Support our coverage of
West Michigan's music scene
Recall that, in 1999, Manson made national news from Grand Rapids when he played Van Andel Arena the day after the horrific Columbine High School shootings in Colorado.
Career-Spanning Spectacle: Manson played to a sold-out house. (Photo/Anthony Norkus)
In those days, Manson was pegged as America’s darkest nightmare — some nihilistic pre-millennium Beelzebub whose stardom was a certain sign that we were at the beginning of the end times. Bizarrely, he was pegged as one of the inspirations for Columbine shooters — a turn of events he discussed in the most fascinating scene of Michael Moore’s documentary “Bowling for Columbine.
All of this is old news, for sure. But Manson is like a few other artists — say, the Bee Gees or the Grateful Dead — whose history as social signifiers is far more interesting than the music. And in this dystopian present of political tension and environmental ruin, getting all worked up over a rock ’n’ roll singer seems quaint.
That’s why watching Manson churn through a 15-song, career-spanning set, it was hard to wrap my head around his earlier infamy. Sure, the show was filled with Manson’s trademark Sturm und Drang — lots of references to sex, drugs and low-grade blasphemy. But, with the passage of time, it seems like the spectacle would only have terrified the most timid among us. Maybe just your grandma and former state Sen. Dale Shugars?
DIGGING INTO EARLY MATERIAL AND CROWD FAVORITES
Manson is in the middle of a trek dubbed the Hell Not Hallelujah Tour. The set included a couple of songs off of this year’s “The Pale Emperor” LP, which has been greeted by generally positive critical notes. The singer also dug way back and performed one of his earliest songs, “Cake and Sodomy,” which dates back to 1990 and was a staple of his early work under the name Marilyn Manson and the Spooky Kids.
Still Channeling Teen Angst? Manson at The Orbit Room. (Photo/Anthony Norkus)
Of course, the most enthusiastic fist-pumping from the capacity crowd of 1,600-plus was reserved for the hit: 1995’s chart-topping cover of the Eurthymics’ “Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This),” 1996’s “The Beautiful People” and 1998’s “The Dope Show.” But if the crowd was amped up, Manson seemed subdued. His voice was especially gruff, and his stage gestures were more Vaudevillian than medical oddity/freakshow.
The older he gets, the more Manson artistically resembles his pseudonymous predecessor Alice Cooper. In both cases, their early shock appeal had as much to do with channeling the dark side of young adult angst as it did any sort of actual sacrilege. As Manson — and his audience — slip further into middle age, that angst loses its terrifying power. At that point, it’s like a schlocky horror movie you loved as a kid. What it loses in fright appeal, it gains in nostalgic comfort.
Opening the night was L.A.’s Knee High Fox. The band members were talented enough, in an amped-up early Alice Cooper sort of way. I found myself rooting for them. They have potential, if only they would cool it with the rock ’n’ roll clichés that made me roll my eyes so hard they’re going to hurt in the morning.
MARILYN MANSON: THE LOCAL SPINS PHOTO GALLERY BY ANTHONY NORKUS
Click on photo to enlarge gallery; disable pop-up blocker if images won’t load
Copyright 2015, Spins on Music LLC
